Fallout: ARC
by FineGirlBrandy
Summary: Dust bombs fell throughout the lands as the people took shelter in large underground vaults. 100 years passed as those that survived above ground formed tribes and mutated into the Faunus, awaiting the return of the vault dwellers. When the vaults did open the strongest became Hunters; seeking the treasures above and fighting the monstrous grimm created by the bombs.
1. Introduction

War. War never changes.

Legends speak of an undying witch and a phoenix of a man. Two souls locked in constant combat across the centuries, beyond the reaches and minds of mankind. The two enigmas supposedly guiding man in order to wage their war. Nothing more than slaves; cogs in the machinations of their divine conquests.

Tempers rose between the nations in time. Pacts were made until the world was divided into two. Perhaps the legends are true, and each was being pushed to the edge by these ancient ones. Maybe we just look for monsters beyond man, and are just unwilling to admit our petty nature doomed us all.

The Great War waged and the great dust bombs fell. Does it matter who launched theirs first? Both were willing and able to release cataclysm upon the world, and both decided to enact this global cleansing. No amount of aura or semblance would have been enough to protect those few that possessed them. Fortunately, those in power constructed magnificent vaults to house the populations, to protect their people and their values for a future world. A world that is certainly unrecognisable. A remnant.

100 years after the dust bombs fell the vaults began to open, but man only sent their strongest to find treasures of this waste. These Huntsmen and Huntresses were faced with the abomination above. Creatures corrupted into monsters and beasts of black and white. People taking on the features of animals. Overpowering dust storms ravaging the lands. Only the strong and the foolish would willingly enter this world.

One such fool was about to make this leap.


	2. Chapter 1: The Vault

**Hi, it's me, Brandy. I am going to do this at the start of every chapter because I think it is a good way to get anything important across. I am sorry about not updating this story. I have been incredibly busy with studying, and an ex recently came back into my life, and they have turned everything upside down. I will be trying harder to keep working on this story though because I have so many ideas that I would like to explore and I really enjoy writing. I will aim for an update every two weeks, though I am not the most reliable.**

 **Thank you for taking an interest in my work, and I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.**

 **/-/**

Jaune Arc tossed as he began to awake at the sound of the alarm emanating from the clock at the side of his bed. The intense buzzing from the rude machine cut through the low constant buzz of the vault. The noises of the vault themselves had become imperceptible to Jaune. The hum from the lights above, and the slight vibrations and thrum from the dim grey walls themselves passed straight through Jaune. He didn't taste his mouth, he didn't feel the rise and fall of his chest, he didn't hear the vault. He did, however, hear that incessant alarm.

He rubbed his eyes as he got up from his bed and picked up the still-screaming clock. 06:00. He silenced the alarm for what was just another day in the vault. He was up earlier than he was required to be, since vault engineers did not have to start work until eight. Though Jaune did not have the luxury of letting himself rest any longer, since to grant himself such a that would inevitably lead to one of two outcomes. Either his seven sisters would make him be late by using the bathroom before he had the chance, or he would have to go to work smelling as a young man is bound to do because his seven sisters were using the bathroom before he had the chance. Instead he threw himself into his current predicament.

It was not as bad as it could have been. The extra time each morning were Jaune's escape. Even though he could never be sure if somebody was watching him through the cameras that were to be found in every room, he at least found solace in the fact that he was relatively alone. The quiet and solitude of early mornings blessed him with the environment he desired to exercise and learn. Not to help him with his job. Oh no. Never to help him with his job. He wanted to become a Huntsman. Though what little exercise he did undertake did bring him far above the average resident, it was nowhere near enough to place him at the expected fitness of the security, let alone the Hunters. He read up on cooking, on fishing and hunting, skills that would be necessary when he would be beyond the resources of the vault. Skills that he could no practice however. There was no fishing or farming in the vault. Everything produced by hydroponics and synthesisers. Jaune had only ever seen animals in pictures.

Unfortunately, there were not many texts available to the average vault dweller regarding the life of a Huntsman or Huntress. And when it is said that there are not many, it is meant that there are none. Or so Jaune had initially thought. Jaune had been organising his family's quarters a few years back when he had stumbled across a case of old holotapes. Most were transcripts of stories from before the war, fairy tales and epics, but nothing more, but one holotape seemed to call out to Jaune. After plugging it into his pip-boy he discovered that this holotape was a journal. His father's journal from his time as a Huntsman.

The contents of that holotape had remained in Jaune's pip-boy from that day, along with the fairy tales and epics he had found. He made it his duty to memorise them; these stories of heroes. He wanted to become a Huntsman- NO! He NEEDED to become a Huntsman. Just like his father, and his father before him, and his father before him. His Great Grandfather having been one of the very first Huntsmen sent out by the Overseer when the vault first opened itself to the world outside a century ago.

It seemed that destiny did not want to will it so. Huntsmen and Huntresses were chosen by the Overseer, though it often came down to family history. Such a fact was common knowledge. Families of Hunters produced more Hunters. At sixteen they would have their auras unlocked and would begin their training to serve the vault. They would then be sent to scour the world above for resources. The day had finally come for Jaune, and he had his chance. A Huntsman tried and failed to unlock his aura. Not everybody could have theirs unlocked, it seemed that only the strong could, and the Overseer would not let the weak leave.

So Jaune went to work in the vault instead.

With an exhausted groan Jaune pushed himself up from the floor for the final press-up before collapsing from the apex and rolling over onto his back. He took long, deep breaths as he let his limbs lay spread across what little room the small accomodation provided. He could not stay there for long though, for his sisters were bound to awake soon for school and work.

The shower was quick but the water was warm, and it soothed Jaune's aching body. As he stepped from the shower and wrapped his towel around him he ignored the dull grey walls that followed him everywhere he went. Instead he rubbed the condensation from the mirror above the sink, though he could not bear to look at himself for long. His skin was smooth, clean, unweathered. The few years of work had done little to age him, and he knew why. Being a vault engineer was just being a glorified maintenance worker. A cleaner.

Knocks rapidly rang from the door. Jaune silently thanked the intervention as he walked from the mirror towards the exit. The impatient knocks returned as Jaune unlocked and opened the door, causing his sister's closed fist to fly towards him, catching him on the chest. Surprised, she jumped back and pulled her arms close.

"Ow." Jaune rubbed his chest in response to the accidental assault. "Thanks for that, Saphron. That is just what I wanted, your filthy hands all over me."

The smaller girl quickly relaxed in front of her brother and chuckled. "You can consider it an early birthday present for my big baby brother." She made sure to put on the voice people use when talking to an infant for those final four words. "And besides, I'm not the one with filthy hands. You must realise that the vault isn't loud enough to hide all your dirty secrets." Saphron let out another laugh as she pushed her brother aside and made her way into the bathroom.

Blood had rushed to Jaune's face, and he found himself unable to think of a response. He stammered on the spot as he stared at the bathroom door. He shouted the first and only thing that entered his mind. "I'M NOT A BABY!"

He let out a sigh but was caught by surprise due to a wave of snickers, laughs and snorts coming from just down the hall. Saphron had not been alone waiting for him to finish up in there. His three youngest siblings, the triplets, stood about an arm's length away from him, though he had failed to notice them. His blush deepened and he sped off to his room.

Jaune locked the door behind him, greeting the calming solitude with open arms. "Nobody else has to deal with this. How could I be so unlucky to have seven sisters?" He let out a groan and fell back against the door. He slid down to sit on the floor and threw his face into his palms. "I used to have my own room before Amber, Aprica, and Aurea came along. Now I'm stuck in this pantry."

The clock beside his bed caught his eye. 07:00. Time for breakfast. He clambered slowly to his feet and moved towards the wardrobe. Bright blue and yellow jumpsuits rested inside, working as was surely intended and hurting Jaune's eyes. These blinding colours were alien to the bland vault. The same thought returned to Jaune week in and week out. Whomever designed these vaults must have been a psychopath. The thought always made him chuckle. He hated everything about this vault.

The line of jumpsuits were identical, though Jaune made an effort to pretend that he had some choices left to him. Five minutes must have passed in ambient humming before Jaune grabbed the jumpsuit on the far right of the rack. In large characters on the back of the clothing read "142." That was Jaune's home. That was Jaune's prison. Vault number 142. To think that there were at least another 141 vaults out there made Jaune shudder. Were they all happy, as everybody else seemed to be here? Did the other vaults return to the world, and try to rebuild, or is this the only existence?

It couldn't be the only existence. His father's journal spoke of outsiders; people that must have been descended from other vault dwellers that had returned to the world, or maybe they were the descendents of people that didn't make it to the vault and somehow survived. Regardless, they were free. They decided what they could wear. They decided when and where they could go. They didn't have to live on the sidelines of an overwhelming family.

The fleeting thought fled in an instant, returning Jaune to stare at the number in front of him. He couldn't just leave, and he told himself that. He loved his family, and wouldn't do that to them. He did, however, want to see that world and to have some freedom. That was what attracted Jaune to the Huntsmen now. It had once been a matter of being a hero for the vault and to be just like his father. It didn't matter to him that they were celebrities, or that they had better quarters. All that Jaune wanted was to escape, even if but for a day. But he didn't know how.

Jaune pulled the jumpsuit on and placed his pip-boy on his left arm. The morning routine was almost complete. The animated vault-boy smiled that sincere but mocking smile at Jaune from the small green screen, silently declaring that Jaune was in a state of good health and that the world was good. But it was not good. Not for Jaune. The pip-boy would only ever mock him. It wouldn't work on animals, as had been discovered when the pip-boy was first invented, because animals do not have aura. It worked on people, on Jaune, because of aura. That was what Jaune was taught in school, and that was the kick he received whenever he wore it. The pip-boy linked up with his aura to relay the information on vitals such as hunger, on one's capacities such as strength, and on the world around him, using his own senses to feed him information that he did not actively perceive. He had even read in his father's journal that the pip-boy could use one's aura to direct the body itself, making the user complete acts that by themselves would be much more difficult, such as firing a gun over a longer distance. The journal referred to it as the Aura User's Reflex Assistance, or A.U.R.A. It was wonderfully redundant.

It was Jaune's double-edged sword.. He had an aura, though he could not use it.

An alarm caused the pip-boy to ping. A call to breakfast. He wanted a minute more alone and he thought for a moment about tuning into the radio. The radio was accessed through the broadcaster, the same application used to send and receive messages, though Jaune kept no contacts and as such never used it, so it was as simple as pressing a button. As his eyes closed he imagined what could be waiting on the radio.

"Vault-dwellers, today is the today. The Overseer in all her wisdom has decided that it is time for us to make our way out of the vault and begin rebuilding the world above. Our admirable Huntsmen and Huntresses have found a region abundant with resources. Please make your way in an orderly fashion to the exit of the vault, or rather, the entrance to our new world." That is what the radio would say. Jaune would cheer and ignore the order for order. He would run past everybody and make it up the four flights of stairs to the great chamber above. He would watch in awe as the great grey door was removed; no longer acting as the immovable obstruction to the light and life living outside this hole in the ground.

It was just the same music on repeat.

Jaune made his way to the dining room to find his family already part way into eating. There was no escape from the walls' chorus or the apathetic grey. Even when they would fade into the background, and go by unnoticed, as soon as you remembered they were there they were all you noticed. They knew where Jaune was headed. They waited for him.

The girls that were there were arguing amongst each other as was typical for any time they were together. As one returned from the shower and having gotten ready for their day they would swap seats with the next in line. His eyes found their way to his father. The man smiled as Jaune's mother put her hand on his as the two ate at the end of the table. The older man was rough. His face housed numerous scars from his time outside the vault. Even as he smiled his eyebrows seemed to force their way down, giving him a constant look of maturity and authority. Jaune caught himself staring as his father nodded to him, non-verbally reassuring Jaune that he is doing well, and insisting that he begin to eat lest he be late for work.

Time ticked away as it is want to do. By quarter to eight everybody except Jaune and his father had vanished.

"Are you okay, Jaune?" The deep voice called across the table.

"Yeah, dad. I am fine."

His demeanour did not change. "You don't seem fine. I don't think I have seen you smile in a very long time, Jaune." Jaune knew that his father was right. He hadn't smiled in a long time. What was there to smile about? His father continued, "is something bothering you? Is it something one of your sisters has said?"

Jaune shook his head. "No, dad. I was just thinking about…" He looked to the ceiling. "Up there."

His father sighed and stood, walking over to Jaune, with an almost invisible limp. He placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "Jaune, those without control of their auras do not leave the vault. I understand why you want to though. It is our history. We have done it for three generations." He placed his hand under Jaune's chin and directed his head so that their eyes met. "I consider myself lucky that you and your sisters have been unsuccessful so far. Look at me," he said pointing first to his face, and then to his prosthetic leg, "it is a dangerous world above us, and we already have enough Hunters. Not everybody needs to be a hero, and if everybody was a hero, the world would fall apart, because there would be nobody capable of keeping it together."

Jaune stood to meet his father, who tried to pull him into a hug, but the downtrodden boy instead shuffled over to the exit. "Bye, dad. I have to go keep the vault together." His father smiled the fatherly smile. The kind of smile that would calm the being of an infant out of a state of absolute fear or despair. The smile that met the cruel world before it with an outstretched hand that called for peace and offered protection.

Jaune did not see it.

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A few hours had passed for Jaune as he completed the routine he had grown accustomed to. Things in the vault rarely broke down due to the constant maintenance the engineers such as Jaune completed, and a such there was nothing for them to fix. Instead all they could do was work to clean and maintain everything that was in perfect working order, which as can be seen clearly, created a cycle of doing practically nothing.

The exciting days, well, the days that were less boring, came when a coffee machine or food dispenser failed. It would grant the soul lucky enough to respond to it up to an hour if they pushed their luck of doing something other than cleaning, polishing, or just looking busy. The problem then came that one could not just fall into the boring work and drift off into a daydream. You would have to pay constant attention for the ping from the pip-boy asking for anyone to respond to an active problem.

Some even resorted to making their own problems just to give themselves something to do. It was a dangerous game though, since anyone caught sabotaging the vault would be locked away, deep in the vault. If the punishment was banishment, then Jaune would have done it in an instant, but the Overseer saw herself as kind, and would not inflict such a fate as punishment. He was torn over banishment as a punishment. Sure, he did want to leave, but in time he is sure he would want to return, and banishment would not allow that.

A solution had revealed itself to Jaune though. He would sneak out of the vault.

It was a reasonable solution. He would find out the access code, sneak out in the early hours of the morning, watch the sun rise, and then return to the vault before anybody discovered that he had gone. Nobody would ever know, and his desire to leave should surely be satiated. It wasn't the solution that he desired, but if it worked he could repeat it. Security was relaxed even in the worst of times, since everybody bought into the ideals of the Overseer and the vault. He played the part of the content engineer well. Besides not smiling he was quite the actor, well, at least he thought. Only his father seemed to know about his desire to leave.

Getting the code would not be easy though. Jaune realised this. He couldn't just ask for the code. He had an idea though. He spent as much time in the entrance chamber as he could without raising suspicion. If he had heard that a Hunter party would be leaving or was soon to return, as one heard through the gossip of residents passing by the working engineer, then he would find a reason to make his way to the exit. He had come close a couple times. He had entered the chamber about two weeks before, just as the vault closed once more and three Hunters passed by him. Five minutes earlier and he could have snuck a peek at the console as the operator opened the vault. Timing was everything.

Jaune looked at his pip-boy for the time. 15:25. He had overheard two guards discussing the most recent group to have left the vault not long ago. As they were talking their pip-boys pinged simultaneously. Only one of them bothered to look though, since the messages were sure to be identical. "16:00 hours." That was the time that the Hunters had reported to the vault to be their expected time of return.

They had no reason to be secretive about this vital piece of information. Who would be listening in? An engineer hard at work? And if so, what could he possibly dream of doing with it? Would he run out of the vault? How could he? There would be Hunters and guards in the room. They would surely try to protect his well-being and put a stop to his attempt at running into danger.

It was time to make his move. He nonchalantly made his way to the exit chamber up from sub-level eight. He took his time so it was quarter to four by the time he arrived. It was empty at the moment, though the eyes of the Overseer still watched his every move. The pulse of the vault became fainter as you travelled closer to the exit, but it could still be felt. The reminder that you were still in the belly of the beast.

A voice called to him from behind. "What are you doing here?" It was a senior vault technician, appearing around the age of sixty from the wrinkles as wide as his forehead. One of the few entrusted with the code to the vault. He stood in his worn lab coat, which acted more to illustrate to himself and his fellows of their importance than as any form of protection. Jaune was not aware of any dangerous work that these men and women undertook. The technician was flanked by two security guards, both with helmet visors down, guarding their faces not from attack but from any inspection. Jaune realised that it was far easier to be intimidating if you could hide your humanity.

"I received an alert that there was a leak up here." Jaune's voice broke as he spoke. He raised his pip-boy for inspection and swung his toolbox gently against his leg to bring attention to the tools.

The technician waved Jaune off as he made his way to the vault controls. The security stood at either side of the short flight of stairs that led down to the entrance. Batons rested in sheathes on their thighs and they wielded rifles. The Overseer would only allow clearance to use rifles during the opening of the vault. Weapons so powerful had to be used sparingly.

Jaune kneeled down before the wall not far from the vault controls, though behind the sight of the security. He didn't want them to catch him peeping at what was confidential information. The screws came loose and the panel came away, revealing the arteries of the vault. No leak was present there but Jaune had to waste time looking for one. It was a good position that he would not surrender.

And the time arrived. Jaune turned his head at the sound of the vault controls being switched on. He watched like a hawk as the elderly man entered the code. It was only six digits. Not very secure. Surprising.

The security stood to attention, tightening their grips on the virgin weaponry. What could really be called a giant allen key descended from its resting place on the ceiling. Lights and sirens erupted into life as this took place, with the key descended and locked into place in the giant cog. Steam burst free from the device as it turned the cog. Light bled into the room causing Jaune to squint at the divine invasion. The wheel continued to turn and the entrance opened in its entirety.

Shadows made their way forward, entering one after another. Voices were barely audible over the excited room, though Jaune could tell they were there. The vault seemed to close itself off in an instant and everything returned to stupendous normality.

It was a girl's voice. She was young. Jaune could not see the group as they were hidden from view by the control panel. They made their way up the stairs. Their uniform was very much just an armoured variant of the typical vault suit; leather rested over vital areas, leaving the joints free for fluid motion. The key difference was the colour. Black. The group removed their helmets. Menacing things to those that saw them. Bright red eyes would stare at you and what Jaune thought to be a breathing apparatus would face you like an open maw. The smallest of the group flicked her hair as she threw her helmet at the tallest.

Ruby Rose.

The young girl was screaming at an older man. He instantly recognised the older man as her uncle, Qrow. Everybody knew who Qrow was. A Huntsman of over twenty years. A celebrity who deserved the title. Everything that Jaune had wanted to be. Qrow slouched as he squeezed the ridge of his nose. He waved the other two Hunters off, sending them away. Jaune recognised them. Even those that held the roles for a short amount of time were well known throughout the vault, especially to those like Jaune who made it their business to watch the Hunters train.

Ruby Rose though. He would not be telling the truth if he denied watching her. Not only was she a Huntress, but Jaune found her very being, from her long black and red hair, down to her unique silver eyes, to draw his attention. She must have been around twenty now. Training for two years after her aura was unlocked and another two years of access to the outside.

He caught himself staring, though nobody else had noticed him as far as he aware. Qrow told Ruby to calm down, which caused her to stamp her foot and sulk off. She walked directly into a storage cupboard, though after a few seconds she did not come out as expected.

One of the security guards chuckled as the technician led Qrow from the room.

Jaune was all alone.

He could just leave. A gulp sounded from him as he stood slowly at the realisation that this may very well be it. Jaune's breath was shallow as he looked to the controls, with his feet moving on their own, guiding him to the controls. He stopped himself. Ruby was in the cupboard. She would emerge as soon as she heard the sirens. If security could stop him, then she surely could.

Furious tapping could be heard from behind the door. Jaune pressed the button on the door frame and revealed the small woman tapping her foot with arms crossed, facing the wall.

"Go away, Uncle Qrow." Ruby said through gritted teeth.

"My name is, uh… Jaune, actually." Jaune chuckled as he took the Huntress off guard. She span on her heel to face the engineer.

She wiped the left side of her face with her sleeve. "Oh. I saw you kneeling outside. What were you doing?"

"Uh, I was… fixing a leak."

"What caused the leak?"

"I-I don't know. I haven't actually found it yet. We just know that it is nearby, ah, because there is low water pressure." Jaune felt himself forced back against the door as Ruby moved forward, eyes focusing on his face.

"You're the one who watches me." She said accusingly.

"What?" His voice was high-pitched as Ruby pierced his gaze with hers. He wanted to look away, but he just couldn't do it with Ruby.

"Yeah, it is you. You watch us train." Ruby giggled with that. "You must be a big fan of us. I see you there a few times a week. I understand that some people do find us interesting, and we are pretty much just free entertainment, but you must be really obsessed." She gently punched his shoulder as she laughed.

Jaune faked a laugh. "Yeah. I wa- My dad was a Huntsman. I try to imagine what he was like."

Ruby took a step back. She looked to her feet and rubbed her arm. "My parents were too. My dad trains us, as I'm sure you know. My mum, well, not all of us make it back."

Silence had joined them in the cupboard.

Jaune didn't like this new presence. "What were you arguing about out there?"

Ruby looked back to him, eyes wide. "I really shouldn't tell you. The Overseer will hear through the debrief, but we are told not to tell residents of the outside world."

Jaune nodded gently but wanted to push his luck. "I was just worried. You seemed to be quite shaken up. Are you sure you do not want to talk?"

Ruby looked to the door and nodded, but quickly shook her head. "It's just… a child." Her voice was rushed. "I'm sorry, Jaune, was it? I have to go. It was nice meeting you and all, but I… It was great meeting you. Maybe we can talk next time you come to watch me." She pressed the button at his side and the door opened. She passed him and her cape gently whipped him as she did so.

He followed her out, watching her leave, catching sight of what looked like a rifle hidden beneath the cape. Far larger than those used by the security earlier. A large scope reflected the lights above as she passed under them. In an instant she was gone.

The leak was real and needed attention. So Jaune made himself busy.

He was alone again.

Truly alone.

No Huntress would erupt from nearby to stop him. He told himself once more that he should come back in the night as he planned, but the controls called to him. It would take but six small presses, and he would be there. The promised land. He found himself at the controls, slowly inching towards his freedom. Six faint taps echoed through the empty room. His finger rested on the final key. The large red button attracted his other hand. With a closed fist he struck the machine.

Lungfuls of air made their escape from Jaune, like people jumping into rafts to escape a sinking ship. The room once more erupted into life. Jaune pottered to the stairs, making his way down to the moving door. He couldn't bring himself to blink at the majesty before him.

One foot after another he made his way through the threshold. His empty lungs embraced the new air. It was horrible. He choked on it. He coughed. He had to spit. But he kept moving. He closed his eyes as the light blanketed his face. It was warm. Worth the newfound suffering of breathing.

The vault slammed shut behind him, drawing Jaune from his bewildered and euphoric state.

"No. No no no no NO!" Jaune screamed and struck the vault. He let out a pained scream as he held his right hand close to his chest. He sought the controls to open the door. There was nothing. There were no controls on the outside. "Oh no." Jaune shook as he coughed again. His mind ran wild as he thought of what he could do. He couldn't think of anything. Who knows when the vault would open again. Who knew when the Hunters would leave again? He flicked through his pip-boy to the signal application. The vault radio was no longer available. He went to his contacts. Nothing. Of course there was nothing. The work alerts could only ever be agreed to. There was no message response possible. He was alone. Truly alone.

Jaune turned to face the light. It was the only way he could go now.

Jaune had his wish. He was free from the vault.


	3. Chapter 2: The Blue Idiot

**Hi, it's me, Brandy. I am so pleased that so many people seem to be reading this story, because I am having so much fun writing it. I have so many ideas that I want to explore, and I don't want to give anything away, but I really want to get to a certain spartan. I am in love with the idea that I have for her, and that is all I can really say. I hope you all like her when she eventually shows up.**

 **I will probably stick to updating every two weeks since I have a lot of other commitments. Once again, thank you for taking an interest.**

 **So behold, Jaune's first step towards becoming a "legend," a one review put it.**

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Another cough burst from Jaune's mouth as he made his way up the long wide path away from his home, and towards the blinding light. His hand provided shade to his now squinting eyes as he left his arm over his mouth, preparing for the cough to return. Jaune looked back for a moment, somewhat hoping that the vault would be open. A sigh and small chuckle of relief escaped his lips when he saw that he was still trapped outside. He had no choice but to follow the wish that had plagued his mind for so long.

The vault entrance was not far from the surface world. It was maybe a hundred steps between the walls of rock to the real world. As he came close to the end of the path each step and bob of his head brought the sun closer into view. The radiant orb brought warmth with the light. The bulbs in the vault were said to mimic the light of day, and Jaune could say that they certainly did, though nothing had ever come close to the embrace he welcomed as he continued on. The vault was warm, and the vault was bright, though it did not feel this welcoming.

He coughed once more as he reached the end of the path. Jaune found himself staring at a small embankment about thirty steps away. The crevice he had just exited was grey, much like the vault, though it was rough and damp to the touch. Jaune had barely noticed these sensations as he walked through; too enticed by the sun. The new sight was overwhelming.

Green.

Not the sickly green that rose from the pip-boy, but a soothing green. The green silently called to Jaune, reaffirming the innate notion that things will be better.

Green. The ground was green. A hint of brown was with the green, and clearly visible beneath it, but the ground was green. Jaune felt his breath shudder at the sight. He marched forward, collapsing to his knees as he pushed his hands onto the ground, crushing it beneath him. He quickly removed his hands, and watched slack-jawed as the ground almost entirely returned to normal, as his wild hair often does. The green that stood erect from the brown ground were like blades, but they shifted under pressure. Jaune watched as they danced in the whistling wind, and then he made them move himself. They were soft to the touch, though firm, unlike anything he had ever encountered at home. He had read of grass, but he had never seen it. He knew that it would be green, but no amount of reading that would have shown him this image. He could not have been prepared for the sight, the feeling, the smell, nor the sound.

That sound. It was not the grass nor wind. It had been there from the beginning, crashing in constant rhythm behind it all. Jaune stood slowly, eyes forward. Over the embankment, what was in essence a small hill, he climbed. The green slowly faded, giving way to a collage of yellows and golds, that soon ended with waves of blue and white. They rolled like wheels atop and from the depths onto the beach, though Jaune did not know the word for this stretch of sand, nor for sand itself, or at least, he could not recall it. Studying the outside world was mandatory study in school, though it seems that the smallest details were left behind by their ancestors. As he walked closer he felt spray engulf him. It definitely felt like water. It definitely did not taste like water. Jaune spluttered from his mistake. He made a mental note not to drink this water, as tempting as it could be. His cough returned, though it eased its assault.

The sea reflected the warming light, making the endless expanse shimmer as it moved of its own volition. What was making it move? Jaune had read of seas, of lakes, he even knew that they were meant to crash as the water ended and land begun, but again, the minutia had been left behind. He had learned that water was a source of fish, and could be travelled across, though the hows, whether they could be called big hows or small hows, had been ignored. Education was far too practical to involve such trivialities.

The sun was low, though it had not touched the horizon. There were a couple hours of light left. Jaune thought it best to explore, and if nothing could be found he could always return to the crevice he had crawled out from. He turned for the first time back to the crack that held the world he had known. It divided part-way a great cliff that loomed over Jaune, almost appearing as if it desired to crash upon him like waves upon shore. Once more, Jaune felt overwhelmed by this new world. How could he even call it a new world? This was the real world, was it not? The vault had been the lie. A cave in which he was imprisoned, in which he had been told truth, in which he sought escape but such escape would lead to castigation for his own protection.

The vault could open now, and it would have all been worth it; though Jaune knew that his thirst had not been, nor could it likely be quenched. The cliff stood tall to the left and to the right, no clear sign as to which way would be the shortest to a route off the beach. Jaune looked down at his pip-boy. The map of the vault had been saved, but Jaune zoomed out, hoping to find his position in the real world. The map of the real world had always failed to appear when Jaune had looked when inside the vault. It appeared now. There Jaune was; the western shore of the island of Patch.

"Patch". Jaune looked bemused at the name that came from his mouth. A strange name. Although, it was the name of his home, or what was his home, or what might still be his home. He didn't know what to call the vault. It was far more complicated than he could pretend it was, though he was inclined to say that this world, the real world, was as much his home as the vault had ever been.

The pip-boy revealed that there was a path some way to his right. Jaune continued to play with the map as he followed the route he saw on the screen. The nearest town that caught his eye went by the name of Signal. It was fairly large. Well, from what Jaune could guess anyway. He was not exactly an expert on above ground population centres. If there were any people, any supplies, any shelter, then Signal would surely be the best place to search. The Huntsmen and Huntresses never seemed to bring back food with them, nor anything for that matter, why would they? His father's journal spoke of ration packs for all outings, since any food beyond the vault had what was called dust contamination, that is if food survived this long. Maybe some canned food survived, but even Jaune thought that such an idea would be ludicrous. There would surely be some plants or animals to eat.

Eventually the cliff gave way to a steep hill. Steps from before the war carried Jaune to the brow. The railing alongside the steps made for an easier time than trying to scale the rock and grass laden hill would have provided, though Jaune still found the journey taxing. He was not as fit as he first thought, with little time or room for cardio in his small room, and the coughs that had been plaguing him since he left the vault only made things more difficult. With a pant he came to a stop and sat on the final step and the apex of the staircase. He stared wide-eyed at the expanse that moved before him. A few clouds had drifted into view from the east, passing overhead towards the sun. The increase in altitude changed so much. A rough misty line had risen from the water to the west. What had appeared to be an endless expanse of water now revealed another land to Jaune. The map did not want to give away the name of the strange land in the distance, it did not zoom out nor travel that far, though Jaune thought back to his schooling in the vault, and the continents of the world. He was not confident enough to make any guesses though. Geography was hardly his strongest subject. That had been dancing.

As soon as his breath returned Jaune made to his feet and continued towards Signal. The grass that grew atop the cliff gave way to larger plants, to small shrubs. Soon these too gave way to grander flora. Bushes and trees sprouted from the earth, showering the ground with shade. The pip-boy showed a road not far east, just through the this small expanse of trees. Jaune ran his hand across the bark of the trunks as he passed them, trying to take in as many sensations as his simply limited body would allow. With the trees came the songs of birds above. The high pitched chirps and calls varied as much as the plants around him.. Purposeful or playful, Jaune could not decipher nor distinguish, though he thought them beautiful. The sounds of the dead crashing waves had been eroded and replaced by the living melody that seemed to oscillate as he passed below.

Brown pellets, obviously excrement, rested in a mound in the centre of a tiny worn pathway between a naturally formed line of trees, clearly the accidental creation of animals as they made their way on the same path often. Small animals at that. He made sure not to step in the mound, despite their appearing to be dry and solid.

Jaune knew that he had to eat, and this might have been the best option. He reached up to the tree branch hanging above, thinking back to the texts he read on survival. The branch was sturdy but flexible. It would do.

A quarter of an hour passed as Jaune scavenged the wooded area for the items required and started on the trap. Thick branches snapped to roughly equal length would act as grounded pegs, the first two imbedded in the ground either side of the pathway, forced into a deep stable position as Jaune hammered them into place with a rock. A primitive but effective tool, just as the texts described. Four more plunged into the ground perpendicular to the first two, though they were packed close together, with just enough room for the flexible branch Jaune had snapped off at first to rest between them. The key to this whole endeavour rested in the fibrous climber plants that Jaune had collected. In theory they should be flexible enough to to tie the works together. A small branch was tied perpendicular to the peg on the side with the other four. The flexible branch instead of wood, had a sharp piece of flint that Jaune had found tied to its end, with the branch itself pulled back. The climber was strung across the two pegs, with a small section of branch acting as a hair trigger between the flexible arm and the peg, holding the trap in place.

The trap swung across the path at what Jaune thought to be the approximate body height of the small creature after he set it off from a distance with a stick. As simple as the construction was the text warned that it could still harm a person. It was designed to kill after all. Jaune reset the trap, made note of his position on the pip-boy, and continued towards the road.

Man's unifying construction was a sorry sight. The road was falling apart. Enormous cracks had formed along and across the wide road. Plants had begun to grow from the cracks; mostly grass, but flowers were in bloom here and there. The road was giving way to nature, and nature was taking a mile with the inch it was gifted.

A sign caught Jaune's attention. It lay flat on the other side of the road, with the legs it once stood on standing tall beside the trees. Stop. Look. Listen! Jaune was not sure what for, but the mantra had been drip-fed to the children of the vault. Jaune chuckled and crossed the road. He didn't look. Nothing would be coming.

One mile to Signal. That was the important message this sign had spent the last two centuries relaying to the animals that called these trees their home. Jaune was confident in presuming that this one mile was via the road, because the pip-boy showed a much shorter route. A rustle of leaves alerted Jaune to a presence. Most likely a bird, but a presence nonetheless. It came from nearby bush. An audible gasp escaped Jaune's lips as he honed in on the small woody plant. It was less of a bush and more of a bramble. The thicket was adorned with midnight jewels. Blackberries. With haste he ran to his dinner, being careful to stop before he fell into the thorny embrace. He plucked the fruit from the stem with speed and little grace, simply throwing the largest he could grab straight into his mouth. His hands were faster than his chewing, and he soon found it full. A moan befitting an orgasm passed through the mouthful of liquid and flesh, with juices running like blood down from the corners of his mouth. As he chewed he continued to pick as many as he could, pulling with his right hand, and hugging his bounty close with his left.

*Bang*

A gunshot echoed through the trees, causing birds to take flight and Jaune to drop his food. He dived onto his stomach and covered his head in preparation for another shot to sound. His eyes were held shut tight as his body shivered in fear and anticipation for the obvious threat.

Jaune forced his eyes open. Disappointment and shock flooded into his mind. He wanted to be a Huntsman. A Huntsman is not scared of anything. His parents had always encouraged and taught confidence. "It was the key to everything." That was what they said. Women, work, the world. They all waited for the confident man.

How would his father have reacted when he was a Huntsman? How would Ruby react if she was in this position?

Ruby. Their time in the storage cupboard was still warm in the back of his mind. She expected him to come watch her train. Jaune wasn't even sure if he would ever get back in the vault, and even if he did he would probably be punished. They would likely control and monitor his every action. Say goodbye to watching the Huntsmen and Huntresses train. Maybe this could be the answer to Jaune's problems though. If he could act as a Huntsman without an aura, if he ever made it back then maybe he could convince the overseer into letting him live the life he wanted. Even if that didn't work, he could always remain out here. He could be a lone Huntsman, living off the land, protecting the people of Patch. Were there any people of Patch? The gunshot certainly seemed to indicate the affirmative.

Pushing himself up, Jaune jumped to his feet and headed towards the source of the shot. He kept his head low but moved at a light jog. Long paces placed precisely around the fallen twigs; the attempt at stealth that seemed to work as Jaune made his way quietly onwards. A break in the treeline was visible to Jaune, and in the clearing rested a homestead surrounded by fences. Large green stalks crowned by yellow grew within the fences. The rows were too neat to simply be natural. People must have worked the land. Farmers. Where were they though?

Jaune stopped short of the treeline. The fence was a short sprint away, and the house not much further. His eyes scanned the environment looking for any signs of movement, and that was when the second shot sounded. Jaune ducked once more but he refrained from diving into cover.

The bushes in front of him provided good cover, but so would the cornfield if he needed it. The gunshot was close, so Jaune thought that it just might. With the coast seemingly clear Jaune passed between two bushes and made his way to the fence. He clambered over with ease and crouch walked towards the house.

"I won't tell you again!" An angered voice called out. Jaune slowed slightly as he made his way closer. Two men came into sight. The first stood in the centre of the path. The second was standing at the far side of the clearing that acted as the path between the two fields of corn and ran from the house. What they wore could hardly be described as clothes. A mismatch of leather and metal seemed to hang from them like decorations. Both men were wielding pistols. The second man was looking up at the first floor of the house, waiting for any response from the inside. The first was facing the front door.

A response finally came. "Please. Please don't shoot her." The voice was deep, but clearly that of an older man. "I already told you, we gave the supplies to the boy you sent." Jaune could not see the old man. He was in the house… somewhere.

A scream drew Jaune's attention to a woman. The first man had her by her long blonde ponytail, which he was now pulling on to keep her suspended just off her knees. The light red dress, though some would argue that it was pink, that she was wearing was soiled by the dirt she was being dragged about through. The man had blocked her from sight at first, but the response riled the agitated man. He threw her down, fired into the air, and pressed the gun against her head. She screamed once more, louder than before as he pressed the hot metal deep into her skin.

His voice boomed. "Don't talk shit to me old man. The boy never made it back to the boat. All he had to do was come here, get the shit, and come back." He howled with laughter for a second. "We know you killed him. We all know that you have a gun. Who doesn't?"

Jaune didn't.

The first man continued. "You had enough of it, didn't ya? You thought 'fuck this'. You thought 'I ain't letting some kid get shit'. Didn't ya?!" The man cackled as he pressed the gun in harder. Screams were replaced by shallow whimpers as the woman seemed to be giving up hope.

The old man's response came instantly. "Why would I shoot the boy? I knew he was with you. Why would I do anything to make you angry? I have always complied. Please, just give her back. When you return next month I'll double what you normally get." The old man sounded as if he was speaking through sobs.

The first man laughed once more. "Nah. You can't just give us double. Then we'd end up with what we would have got, but we still lost the boy." He knelt down and pulled the woman's head back to lick the side of her face. "Nah. I think I'm just gonna kill her to teach ya a lesson."

The old man screamed, the woman screamed, the first man laughed as he stood beside her, and the second man looked at Jaune. "HEY!" He screamed at Jaune catching the attention of the first man. Jaune fell onto his arse and rolled backwards into the soil. A shot rang out, followed by a thud, then a second shot, followed by a second thud.

Jaune stared in awe as the two aggressors rested motionless on the ground. No time had passed and their life had been snuffed out. The woman had screamed and ran to the house, being passed by the old man as she went. "You, in the field. Come out." Jaune swallowed hard as the order reached his ears. "Don't think I don't see you. Wearing blue and yellow out here surrounded by brown and green isn't exactly a bright idea. As you saw, my age hasn't impacted my aim much, so come on out before I kill you too."

"Ok." Jaune answered with a broken voice.

Eyes and rifle alike followed Jaune as he climbed slowly over the fence and down onto the dirt path. The old man stood with a slight hunch in his back, probably from years of hard toil in these fields, and especially under these robbers. He wore a red checkered shirt tucked into blue overalls which were themselves tucked into large black work boots. What little hair he had left atop his head was grey.

"You armed?" The old man asked through his thick grey moustache.

"No, sir." Jaune turned slowly as to show himself harmless.

"That is awful stupid of you, son." The old man lowered his rifle and laughed through missing teeth. "If it wasn't for you standing there like the idiot you are who knows what would have happened. These raiders are not exactly a consistent bunch. So I guess I have to thank you."

"No problem, sir." Jaune did not dare move, in case of causing unnecessary aggravation. The old man looked down to the raider at his feet; turning the head over to check if the beast had really ceased. After a long moment Jaune asked weakly "Can I move?"

"Yeah yeah. I suppose I owe you one. Head on inside. My granddaughter is in there. She will give you something to eat." He shouted that part over his shoulder towards the house. "I'll be in with you soon. I just have to deal with these two idiots." The old man said kicking the chest of the fool that threatened his granddaughter.

Jaune thanked the old man, who simply grumbled a response as he searched the raiders. The wooden steps leading to the door creaked under foot, showing their age. The door had remained open behind the granddaughter, and Jaune headed in slowly. He found himself in a small hall, with doors to his left and right. In front of him the hall stood divided; a staircase climbed on the right hand, and the hall continued on narrower on the left towards another door. A crash came from the left and was followed by a soft irritated voice.

The door, like the steps, creaked. It would have been impossible to sneak around this place, even if his clothes didn't burn the eyes. The door opened up to the kitchen. The woman from before sat on a stool at the kitchen island. Two black pots sat on the island whilst she rested her head in her hands.

"Hey there"

The woman jumped at Jaune's calling. She quickly stood and patted her apron down as she forced a smile for this intruder. She ran her sleeve across her face, clearing the tears that remained. "Well, hi, mister?"

Jaune was bewildered. This woman, no older than him, had just been held at gunpoint, but she held herself steady. "Jaune. What's your name?" He answered and asked awkwardly standing in the middle of the room.

"The name is Tera. And the name of the old hero that saved us both is my grandfather, as you probably guessed or he told you. His name is Venette." Her smiled seemed to grow more genuine the more she spoke. "Haven't my manners escaped me." She pulled a chair around the island. "Please take a seat." Besides the tear stains it would be hard to tell that she had just stared death in the face.

"Why, thank you. You are both so kind. But all I really did was stand in a field." Jaune laughed nervously as he took the offered chair.

The kind woman turned a nob and a flame burst from a kitchen counter. She filled one of the pots with water and laid it over the flame. "What were you doing out there anyway? You weren't exactly hiding well." Tera turned from her work and looked at the boy in blue and yellow with inquisitive eyes.

"I heard the gunshot. I had to see if anybody was in danger." He answered honestly, though leaving out the part where he dropped his berries and almost fouled himself.

"No offence, Jaune, but, what good would you have been without a weapon."

She was right. The security in the vault had batons. The guards at the vault entrance had rifles. Ruby had that sniper rifle. The Huntsmen and Huntresses would never leave the vault without a weapon. What could Jaune have done? He ran in without a plan. It was just dumb luck that had saved them, and he knew that. He wasn't a hero. He was a fool.

Jaune coughed into his sleeve as he looked everywhere but Tera. She took the moment of silence to continue with her cooking. She chopped vegetables and skillfully threw them into the bubbling pot. Jaune couldn't leave her without a response. "I don't know. Nothing, I guess. I didn't actually think it through." He let out a sigh and flung his head and chest down on the island.

Tera watched the poor boy closely. She closed the distance and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You were still brave running in like that. Most people out here would rather keep to themselves. They would rather not die than help out strangers, and sometimes, even those close to them." Her voice was soothing. She had a comforting familiarity about her.

Jaune looked up at her soft blue eyes and weak smile. "How are you like this?" Jaune asked.

"Like what?"

"You just had a guy almost pull your hair out and threaten to shoot you. How are you coping so well?" Jaune asked both for his own sake and from pure amazement.

Tera went back to the pot to stir it gently. "It's not the first time I have been in a situation like that." Jaune sat up straight at the response. "I would say that you should know what it's like, but from the naive look you have stuck on your face, and the stupid suit you wear, I don't think you do know what it's like." Tera span on her heel and rested against the counter beside the pot. "Where are you from, friend? And what's with the blue?"

Jaune swallowed hard. "My family live in the vault down by the water. And this is what we all wear."

It was Tera's turn to look bewildered. She gave a noise of acknowledgement regarding the vault suit. "You live on the beach?"

Jaune thought that must be the name for the yellow and gold he encountered. "Not on the beach. There is a hole in the rock. We live in there. Have you never seen it? It's massive. There's no way that you haven't seen the vault entrance."

Tera shook her head and gave a small snicker. "I'm afraid not, Jaune. People don't exactly go down to the beach. If you aren't running into raiders down there coming over from Vale, then you face the grimm."

That word. Grimm. He recognised it. He was sure it was in the journal. "Grimm?"

It wasn't a snicker this time. It was a laugh. "You really ain't been outside that hole of yours before, have you?"

"First time." He rubbed the back of his head, smiling innocently, not wishing to tell of his escape.

"The grimm are like ordinary animals, only normally they're bigger, and black and white, and they have eyes as red as blood. They glow in the night, Jaune. Some nights you can see them in the treeline as if they're watching, waiting for you to leave and enter their domain. They have claws like daggers that can carve through rock, and a bite that can cut through a tree like a knife through flesh. And the howls that descend when they talk will cause your blood to retreat away from the outside world. They stalk people, Jaune. They don't care for animals much, but they come for us."

Jaune didn't realise that he had begun to shiver.

Tera shot a smile his way. "No need to worry though. In fact, I hear worrying only makes things worse. We don't exactly know where they come from, but we don't have many on Patch. The grimm that live on the beach seem to deal with them. I don't know why those grimm attack the others, but I ain't gonna complain."

"I didn't see anything on the beach." Jaune couldn't shake the worry. Had he really been that close to these beasts whilst he played with the grass.

"Grimm are a rarity on Patch. The raiders are the real problem. They come over on their rafts, take our crops and head on home. They come every month, though with what happened today, I expect we'll be having another visit very shortly." She looked at Jaune's wrist, and the pip-boy that rested on the island. "What is that thing anyhow?

The door behind Jaune swung open as Venette entered, making both parties forget the question. The rifle he had wielded earlier swung on his back from the loop over his shoulder and chest. "Tera, I stripped those bastards of everything and threw their bodies into the mulch pit. I'll need you to take their belongings into the attic in a bit, I can't be climbing no ladder."

His granddaughter nodded at the command before heading back to her cooking.

"How are you doing, boy?"

"Jaune." Tera corrected over her shoulder.

"How are you doing, Jaune? Venette asked as he walked around the edge of the room, peaking out of the windows.

"I'm doing fine. Thank you." Jaune didn't know what to make of the old man. Venette could have have shot him though. Jaune could be laying naked out in the mulch pit with those raiders right now if Venette had wanted such to pass. Instead, Jaune sat in a house, awaiting food. It must have been the way that Venette carried himself. The way he stood at the edge of the windows to peak out. He made absurdly quick movements of his head as if he was scanning for anything out of the ordinary. It was paranoia.

"You can stay the night for free, boy." Venette offered, either forgetting Jaune's name or just not caring for it now. "And since you had the balls to even come running towards a gunshot, if you want to stick around for a while I could make use of a virile idiot around the farm. We gotta get you out of those damn clothes though. You're an eyesore."

Venette took the seat across from Jaune as Tera poured the boiled vegetables into three bowls and set them down on the island. A fork was passed to Jaune by Tera, but Venette had dived straight into his dinner with his dirty hands. He waited for noone.

Jaune took a bite out of the carrot on the edge of his fork. He gazed at the pair before him whilst he accepted this filling gift.

He looked forward to being out of this uniform.


End file.
